beautiful white hand." This grim message was sent to the lady, whereupon she had her right hand cut off and sent to Saladin. 'Ah!" said he, in surprise, "now I know thou hast told me the truth. Now I know the heart of one true and loyal woman. Thou shalt not die. Thou art free."

So does the nail-pierced hand of Jesus remove the doubt of God's forgiving grace and become the ground of our assurance of forgiveness-the basis of our faith; but back of the bloody hand is the heart of love, which is the ground and source of forgiveness itself. The sacrifice of the hand made no change in the love and loyalty of the devoted lady; but it made a tremendous difference at the other end of the transaction. After such a sacrifice neither Saladin nor the knight could ever question the love that prompted it. No more can we, unless we be hopelessly skeptical, doubt the grace of God, who commended His love toward us in the appalling death of His Son in order that we might know God, and knowing Him, be saved from doubt and sin, and so find peace. No more

can we doubt the exceeding sinfulness of sin that imposed the sacrifice.

But some one will say, Can a just God simply pass over our sins, and forgive them upon our repentance alone, without some "satisfaction" or "propitiation," and treat our past sins as though they had not been?

Well, our past sins are not as though they had not been, even after forgiveness. Certain organic and social consequences follow even forgiven trespasses against God's law. The reckless libertine, the drunkard, or the embezzler is not saved at one stroke from all the organic and social consequences of past misdeeds. The same is true of all sins, more or less, according to the nature and circumstances of the sin. Consequences of sin are not necessarily obliterated when we are converted and forgiven. The effects of our old sins sometimes go on to curse other people long after we ourselves have made our peace with God; and this is part of the inescapable penalty of sin in spite of forgiveness. If Christ's sufferings are to be considered as the sufficient substituted penalty for our sins,

then why are the penalties not all remitted? Either His sufferings were not sufficient, or else they were not penalties at all.

In reality, forgiveness does not include the removal of organic and social consequences at all. Forgiveness is the re-establishment of friendly personal relations after those relations have been broken by sin. Sin is forgiven, but none of the consequences, except those that hinge on past unfriendly relations between man and God. The suffering caused by the consciousness of being wrong, inferior, and helpless, the fear of coming judgment, the disquietude of a dual personal life, the sense of personal isolation that sin brings, are all removed. All spiritual penalties that result from personal alienation between a soul and its God are necessarily remitted. The sentence of spiritual death which hangs over every unrepentant soul is suspended. But there are certain organic and social penalties that are not included in the pardon. After his adultery with Bathsheba and his virtual murder of Uriah, David suffered the deepest moral anguish. He received the assurance of divine forgiveness,

His soul was restored, his spiritual peace returned. But the memory of his crime never left him; the child born of this illicit act died; domestic and political troubles growing out of his sin continued for years, and perhaps for generations; Uriah was not brought back to life, nor Bathsheba's womanly virtue restored. The Prodigal Son was restored to his father's favor, but the evidence of his sinful life remained in weakened body and dissipated resources.

In spite of this, however, the change in the human spirit that accompanies the assurance of forgiveness, namely, regeneration, has in many cases so profound and mysterious an influence on the body as to remove certain pathological conditions. A friend of mine was completely cured, some years after his conversion, at the moment of a more complete consecration, of an intense craving for tobacco. The story of "Old Born Drunk," in Begbie's "Twice-Born Men," and of "The Regenerate," by Norman Duncan, in The Century of January, 1911, are notable instances many times duplicated-of the eradication of a most deeply-seated alcoholism.

Nevertheless, the results of regeneration must never be confused with those of forgiveness, even though they might occur in the same moment of time.

Forgiveness, however, is no small thing; for suddenly to be conscious that the Father is reconciled to us and we to Him, that His personal displeasure against our conduct is a thing of the past, bring ineffable peace and joy and restoration of soul.

God can justly forgive the repentant sinner because, in a sense, sincere repentance renders one no longer a sinner. The thief on the cross was no longer a thief when in faith and penitence he turned to Christ's mercy. That moment he repudiated his old self and was a new man. I can justly forgive my child who has told me a lie the moment she comes to me in tears, puts her little arms around my neck, and sobs out her sorrow for her sin. She has repudiated the lie, and is no longer a liar. I shall not ask her to do further penance, nor shall I ask any one to do penance for her, nor to make any further satisfaction or propitiation to me.